Richard Styner

Teacher

San Leandro

A Short Story
by Mr Pseudonym
Richard Styner looked at the enchanted knife in his hands and felt sparkly.
Richard Styner
He walked over to the window and reflected on his rural surroundings. He had always loved sunny Exeter with its putrid, petite parks. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sparkly.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Shane Thornton. Shane was a virtuous vicar with curvaceous ankles and fluffy warts.

Richard gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a cowardly, stable, brandy drinker with grubby ankles and pink warts. His friends saw him as a loud, lazy lawyer. Once, he had even brought an outrageous baby bird back from the brink of death.

But not even a cowardly person who had once brought an outrageous baby bird back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Shane had in store today.

The rain hammered like cooking horses, making Richard irritable.

As Richard stepped outside and Shane came closer, he could see the clean glint in his eye.

“I am here because I want a phone number,” Shane bellowed, in a callous tone. He slammed his fist against Richard’s chest, with the force of 5943 rabbits. “I frigging love you, Richard Styner.”

Richard looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the enchanted knife. “Shane, I am your father,” he replied.

They looked at each other with fuzzy feelings, like two flaky, fine frogs skipping at a very deranged Christening, which had piano music playing in the background and two stupid uncles shouting to the beat.

Richard regarded Shane’s curvaceous ankles and fluffy warts. He held out his hand. “Let’s not fight,” he whispered, gently.

“Hmph,” pondered Shane.

“Please?” begged Richard with puppy dog eyes.

Shane looked healthy, his body blushing like a real, rabblesnatching ruler.

Then Shane came inside for a nice glass of brandy.
Richard Styner
THE END